


Not If, But When

by awomanalone



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Episode Tag, F/M, Hysteria, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-12
Updated: 2015-06-12
Packaged: 2018-04-04 01:53:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4121800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awomanalone/pseuds/awomanalone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things between them had grown incredibly close and easy over the last few weeks- as if they were both in the knowledge that it was no longer if, but when.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not If, But When

**Author's Note:**

> A very late response to Sassasam's Hysteria prompt on tumblr. I realise this will all be negated by the episode that is about to air right now, but I hope you all still enjoy it anyway.
> 
> Can't wait to hear what you all think!

They had become a major problem for her recently. His hands, that was. Not that the rest of his body was any less enticing. She had noticed how very active they were, even when the rest of his body was utterly composed, and the knowledge of this was doing all sorts of things to her. As she sat in his office, watching him drumming his fingers on his desk, she had imagined them being put to other more pleasurable pursuits, pounding in and out of her. She had come to notice the almost imperceptible movements of his thumb and forefinger, sliding against each other on his lap during interrogations, and had instead pictured his long fingers sliding against her slick folds, rubbing at her clit. 

It was becoming entirely maddening, and what managed to astound her was that her desire for him had increased tenfold since their relationship had taken further steps towards a consummation. She recalled that night he had appeared in her parlour, bottle of wine in hand, declaring they could make do with each other. They had banished a lot of ghosts that night as their tongues loosened with the effects of the alcohol. Jack had told her that Concetta had refused him because his heart was already taken; she had replied by informing him of Guido's words. It was the closest either of them had come to a declaration. 

Things between them had grown incredibly close and easy over the last few weeks- as if they were both in the knowledge that it was no longer if, but when. She shuddered as she remembered Jack's fingers on her neck as he surveyed the damage Archie had done to her, straying ever lower by the second, and the beautiful way he had sought out a swallow brooch for her, pinning it on with no hesitation. But what affected her even more, was the way he had been by her side with Arthur's death. 

It had hit her like a steam train, when Aunt P had told her that Arthur had died in his sleep. And Jack had offered her so much support, sitting with her, taking her hand in his, reassuring her just as he had done the day they found Janey. She had curled into him and he had held her tight, not caring one jot for propriety. It spoke volumes to her that he hadn't let her go that day, even when Dot or Mr B entered the room. 

She couldn’t help the grin that formed on her face as she heard his familiar knock at the door. So he had come. She half skipped to open it, and found herself greeted with the delicious sight of Jack, overcoat already slung over his arm, his hand at his neck as he fumbled to loosen the knot of his tie. 

“Very eager, aren’t we, Jack?” Phryne commented, grinning at him. He didn’t answer; merely giving her a dangerously cheeky smirk and sweeping past her to enter the house. 

“Good evening, Miss Fisher.” 

Phryne slowly closed the door, her mind spinning as she tried to make sense of the extremely confident and utterly mind boggling man that had just passed her...and who she now saw was divesting himself of his coat, hat, jacket and waistcoat. She tried to hide her shock. He had stripped himself of so many layers, and she was beginning to have the glorious suspicion that by the time the night was out he would be stripped of so many, many more. 

“Your parlour, Phryne?” he inquired, and she merely nodded, not quite trusting her voice. Not until she was entirely sure of what he was about to do. She leant against the door frame, watching him as he placed his jacket and waistcoat over the back of one of the armchairs, before depositing himself on the chaise. 

Every sensation in Phryne’s body suddenly went into overdrive as she gazed at him, sitting there as if he belonged, as if he was as much a part of the furniture as the ornate pieces which made up the room. She chided herself for her doubts. Really, it was all so simple. He’d been the one who had insisted on a more intimate setting as he left her Aunt’s house yesterday. And he had sounded so incredibly eager when she had suggested he come over for supper the following night. Yet she had still managed to tie herself up in a million impenetrable knots as she lay in bed the previous night, having returned home rather late after keeping a watchful eye on Aunt P after Arthur’s memorial. She knew he was prone to shying away, opening up to her merely to lock himself away even tighter inside his noble, restrained, perfectly dutiful facade. But as the delicious rumble of his voice as he had made his proposal played through her mind, just as it had done all day- the timbre leaving her with no doubt whatsoever of his desire for her- she knew that there was nowhere else he could have possibly sat tonight. She’d said she would hold him to it; but it seemed he was perfectly capable of seeing through with his promise, all on his own. 

Jack fixed her with his gaze, his eyes dancing wildly as they bored into her own, a wry grin forming at his lips. 

“I do believe you wanted to put me on your couch, Phryne,” he began, his tone filled with mirth. He placed both hands palm down beside him on the chaise, sitting up straighter as he pushed downwards, and Phryne’s eyes were suddenly caught by the muscles in his arms which were very clearly visible beneath his thin shirt. “Well, here I am.” 

It was all she could do not to charge him and take him right there. But that wouldn’t do, she affirmed to herself. She wanted this gorgeous man, oh so much her body was practically crying out as the waves of lust flowed through her. Yet after the long, tantalising dance they had been luxuriating in for what felt like forever, each new piece of choreography tearing them from each other before hurtling them back into each other’s arms, Phryne didn’t want tonight to be at all frenzied. She knew they had reached the crescendo of their dance; their peak. And for their first time together, she suddenly wanted it all. There would be time enough for hard, fast, passionate encounters; tonight, she wanted to get to know every part of him, to touch her lips to every contour and crevice, to press her naked body flush with his, to finally feel him inside her and come undone around him. 

She gave him a slow smile as she began to walk towards him. “Yes, I do recall saying that. You don’t want dinner first, Jack?” 

He shook his head at her. “I’m not particularly hungry. And I fear that if I were to delay proceedings now I would completely forget the carefully thought out responses I have planned.” He paused, before adding, “Where are Mr Butler and Dot?”

Phryne’s eyebrow quirked upwards at him. “Dot is at her mother’s. She’s missing Hugh terribly. And Mr Butler is with Cec and Burt at my Aunt’s. So, Jack, you’ve been planning out how you’re going to respond to my psychoanalysis?” 

She had now completely advanced on him, coming to a stop between his open legs. He looked up her, a sheepish grin suddenly appearing on his face. “All last night, then all this afternoon. I wanted to be thoroughly prepared. It annoyed Constable Martin no end when I practically threw him out of my office after the many and varied attempts he made to discuss over and over again the finer details of the case at your Aunt’s house. I’m sure he would have been further vexed to know it was because I was practicing my account of what I saw at that Chinese brothel.” 

“I’m sure he would,” Phryne smirked, reaching out a hand to run it through his hair. His eyes closed and he sighed, a small murmur of pleasure filling the air. “Lay back, Jack, if you’re ready.” 

He did as she said, reclining against the plush fabric. His eyes were open now, gazing up at her with what she could only describe as a look of utter adoration. Phryne perched beside him on the chaise, her back resting against the side of his body. She angled herself so she was leaning over him slightly, bracing one hand lightly on his abdomen (trying very hard not to fall over the edge herself as she felt the hard muscle through the thin fabric of his shirt). 

Jack’s sharp intake of breath as her hand came to rest on his stomach was plainly audible in the silent room. She grinned at the effect she had on him. 

“Ready, Jack?” 

“I’m not sure I was all that well prepared after all; my mind seems to have suddenly gone so very blank,” he told her, his eyes travelling from hers to where her hand was lightly trailing over the contours of his abdomen. “I didn’t realise psychoanalysis would be quite so...” 

“Intimate?” Phryne interrupted, and Jack chuckled. “A good psychiatrist does everything within her power to help her patient deal with their trauma. Even if that means getting very, very close so as to really probe at the issue.” 

“Do with me as you wish, then, Phryne,” he implored. 

“Tell me about the raid at that Chinese brothel. You were still a cadet, you said?” 

Jack nodded. “Yes, just eighteen, still wet behind the ears. I was so desperate to impress my superiors back then; I would have offered to do anything. And I think I often did. Thinking back on it I’m sure they had a right laugh at my expense- at scarring the new recruit for life.” 

“What happened, Jack?” 

“I...well, it was such a goddamn awful place. I thought the hardest part would be securing the patrons and the women, given the language barriers and the various states of undress they were in. But when the people were removed, I got a look at the many and varied objects that littered the dark, dirty rooms. As I said, it definitely left a lasting impression.” 

“And you saw an electrical massager?” 

“We had to tear it away from one of the women.” Phryne made to speak but Jack put up a hand to stop her. “N-no, she wasn’t using it. When we arrested her she made a grab for the object and was incredibly reluctant to part from it.” 

“While I’m not sure quite how she expected to take that with her to the police station, I do understand the appeal of said machine.” 

Jack coughed, his eyes widening ever so slightly. "You own one?"

Phryne gave him a small smirk, her eyes not leaving his as she replied. "Yes." 

"And you- you use it...t-to..." Jack's face began to flush a bright red and Phryne felt something tug within her. It wasn't lust that she felt now, gazing down his adorable display of embarrassment. It was something so much more, something she could barely label with a word. To label it would be to try to contain it, and she had recently been feeling this way about Jack so very often and with so much strength that she knew it had gone beyond the point of control. She was utterly at the mercy of her feelings for him and while she didn't feel brave enough to tell him all, just yet, she no longer felt any fear or apprehension over the feelings she had. 

"I use it to bring myself pleasure, Jack. Just as I do with my fingers, or with an actual man." 

Jack suddenly tensed beneath her and she realised with alarming alacrity what she had just said- that she used men for her own pleasure. 

"That wasn't quite what I meant Jack. I...well, yes, in the past I may have gone to bed with men with that sole intent in mind. But it's not like I took what I could get from them and then left them high and dry without their own..." Phryne trailed off, Jack's liberal minded man speech playing through her mind. Now was certainly not the time to be discussing her previous lovers. She desperately tried to wrack her brain for something to say that would salvage the situation. 

"And you, Jack, you're not like the rest of them." 

He sat up slightly, resting on his elbows, bringing their faces even closer together. 

"Just what am I like then, Phryne?" he whispered, his voice husky. She faltered, her body suddenly filled with so much need it was making her breathless. "Or do I need to psychoanalyse you, as well." 

She couldn't help but laugh, and as her body reverberated with her laughter Jack too began to chortle. Phryne leant forward and buried her head in his chest, unable to stop the loud guffaws erupting from her throat. Jack pressed his lips to her hair, still chuckling, and she was suddenly filled with glee. This was what she loved. There had never been any other man with whom desire and laughter could be mixed, with whom both emotions could be savoured at the same time. No other man but Jack Robinson. 

As she finally managed to quieten her laughter, she lifted her head from his chest and met his eyes with a grin. He too was beaming at her, his smile so wide and so joyous that she couldn't hold back any longer. 

She leant in at the very same time as he moved towards her and all of a sudden their lips were joined in a searing kiss. Their mouths moved as one, at first closed yet passionate in their explorations, then open and wild as their tongues slid against each other hotly. Phryne grasped her hand into Jack's hair for dear life, her body alight with desire. She pulled his lower lip between her teeth, Jack rewarding her with a low growl as he pulled her on top of him to straddle his lap. They continued to kiss, Phryne's hands leaving his hair to caress his face and neck, while Jack's settled on her behind, pulling her hard against his hips as she felt his own desire rage beneath her. 

Grappling with the need for breath over the need for Jack Robinson, Phryne eventually tore her mouth from his, inhaling deeply before moving her lips to his neck, pulling at his already loosened tie to give her better access. Her tongue laved at the pulse point in his neck and he bucked beneath her. 

"Phryne!" he rasped, as she pulled her mouth away from his skin. 

She gazed down at him, eyes intent on his as she spoke. "I think we need to...move to a more private locale." 

"Lead the way, Miss Fisher." 

Phryne stood and walked over to the fireplace, bracing herself on the sideboard. Something in Jack's words had irked her, and while she was desperate to get him in her boudoir, she had something she needed to say first. 

"No, Jack," she exclaimed, turning and walking back over to the chaise. He was now sitting up, looking at her with an expression of confusion, and a slight tinge of fear. She realised she had done it again. 

"Not no, I don't want you. I just don't want to lead you up the stairs to my boudoir. I don't want to be the one doing the leading, as if you're just another man I'm taking to my bed. I want us to go up those stairs together, as one." 

"If you wanted me to carry you up," he gave her a wry grin, taking her hand, "you only had to ask. This is completely and utterly what I want Phryne. No doubts, whatsoever. I want you." 

Phryne shivered at his words. Her knees were all of a sudden feeling slightly weak, due to the sheer willpower it was taking to try to control her desire. Perhaps him carrying her up wouldn't be a bad idea after all... 

"Are you planning on scooping me up and cradling me to your chest then, Jack?" 

He chuckled, squeezing her hand before standing up. "I was. But now I have a better idea." His arms reached out to grab her around the waist and Phryne shrieked as in one fell swoop she found herself over Jack's shoulder, her face pressed against his lower back, Jack's hands wrapped around her upper thighs to support her. He remained still a few moments, and Phryne realised he was waiting to gauge her reaction at being so manhandled. He really was such a beautiful man. Unable to find the words to reassure him, she settled instead for reaching down and running her hands over the glorious curve of his behind. She heard Jack let out a gasp and in an instant they were off. 

As they entered the hallway, Phryne busied herself with pulling his shirt and singlet free of his trousers, craving the feel of his skin. She finally found her prize as they hit the stairs, running her fingers over the skin of his back before dipping them lower and skirting under the layers of his trousers and undershorts. Jack came to a stop on the fourth stair. 

"You're playing a dangerous game, Phryne," he announced, his breathing laboured. "You see, I hold all the cards." 

Before she even had a moment to think, Jack tipped her backwards precariously, her body falling lower down his back. Her breath caught in her throat, not out of danger but rather surprise, before she let out a choked gasp as one of Jack's hands made its way beneath her dress and stroked along her soaked underwear. His finger slid to the side and soon found its way beneath her knickers and into her slick folds. Phryne pressed her face into Jack's back, muffling her screams against his skin and his shirt. Her body writhed against his as he ran his finger delicately back and forth, all the while keeping his other hand locked around her thigh as he carried her to her boudoir. 

She felt them enter flat terrain once more and knew they were close. 

He deposited her carefully on the bed before heading over to shut the door. Phryne arched her body against silken covers, desperate for release. Jack turned back to her and began and slow, measured walk towards the bed. 

When he reached her, he helped her strip out of her dress, then her lacy peach underwear, leaving her bare to his hungry gaze. She looked up at him expectantly. 

He reached out and ran a tentative hand through her folds again, his thumb briefly grazing her clit and making her keen wildly. 

"Tell me what you want. I'm completely at your command." 

"You. All of you. You're far too overdressed, Jack," she purred, tugging at the end of his tie. Jack laughed, slipping the silk from her finger so he could remove it. The tie was soon flung to the floor and Phryne whistled, low and dirty. She watched him intently as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt, becoming impatient half way through and crawling across the bed to assist him. She pulled at the remaining buttons, slipping her hands into the back of his shirt to remove it and fling it in the same direction as his tie. Her hands fell to the bottom of his singlet and she began to slide it upwards, revealing inch after inch of delicious, toned skin, Jack raising his arms to aid her in its removal. She trailed her hands down his chest and over his taut abdomen, heading in the direction of his trousers. Undoing the button, she began to slide them down his legs, leaving him in only his undershorts, which were tenting dangerously. Phryne licked her lips as she placed her hand in the waistband, eagerly anticipating the sight of him utterly bare before her. 

She let out a small huff of frustration as Jack stilled her hands on his undershorts, her annoyance quickly being replaced by pleasure as his arms wrapped around her back and his lips locked with hers. She kissed him breathlessly as he lowered her slowly to the bed, her head meeting the pillows as his lips left hers. 

“Jack.” 

Her voice, husky with desire, made him look at her. She sought out his eyes, trying to convey everything she felt with her own gaze. 

“Touch me.” She saw his eyes flicker with lust as she made her request, his mouth coming up into a small smirk of appreciation as he gazed over her body. It was the same look she thought she’d seen on his face so long ago when she had danced in her feather fans at Madame Lyon’s gentleman’s club. She’d seen something akin to it as she threatened to strip at her Aunt P’s house- made even more meaningful by the fact he had collected the clothing she had dashed to the ground and held it in his arms, giving her his silent support. It was a look filled with so much wonder, awe, pride and desire that it was making her grow slicker by the second. 

“Oh, I plan to,” he replied saucily, his fingers moving forwards to rest on her bare thigh, drawing dizzying circles on her skin. “Show me what you like, Phryne. Enlighten me. I assure you, I’m more than willing to learn.” 

“Touch me, Jack. Run your fingers through my folds.” 

His hand reached out to ghost over her sex and it took all her self-restraint not to buck up against him. Slowly, he parted her slick folds with his forefinger, dragging it along her at a pace so unhurried it was practically maddening. He repeated the movement again, this time allowing his middle finger to join his other, and Phryne let out a small whimper of pleasure, which very quickly turned into a strangled gasp as Jack raised his fingers to his lips and took them inside his mouth. He sucked at first one, then the other, Phryne’s eyes lolling back in her head as she watched him. He removed his fingers from his lips with an audible pop and placed them on her thigh once more, just at the edge of where she wanted them the most. 

“How am I doing?” 

She struggled to find her voice. “Perfect.” 

“What now?” 

“Go faster. I’m not going to break,” she rasped, throwing her head back against the pillows as his fingers entered her folds once more. “And then if you feel like it, you can begin to use your mouth.” 

She watched him with hooded eyes as he scooted further down the bed, coming to rest with his head mere inches from her sex. He let out a long breath, the sensation making her shiver. 

“Circle my clit with your tongue, Jack,” she implored, her body dashing wildly against the bed as his tongue lapped a long, slow stroke along her wet folds before touching briefly at the part she wanted it most. “Oh yes- oh god yes- just like that.” 

He began to circle her clit, just as she had instructed, and Phryne felt the build up of her orgasm deliciously. She opened her mouth, ready to give him further instructions, but her words were caught on a cry of delight as two fingers suddenly entered her and he sucked her clit into his mouth. His fingers worked a slow, steady rhythm inside her as his tongue poked and flicked against her swollen clit. Phryne writhed on the bed, no longer trying to swallow her moans as he sent her further and further towards the stars. His fingers began to pound into her, just as she had imagined them doing, and he released her clit to circle it once more. She could feel everything building inside her and knew she didn’t have long. He began to press warm, wet, open mouthed kisses to her clit and with a final flick of his tongue she fell apart beneath him, crying out his name. 

Jack continued to lap at her as she rode out her pleasure, grasping her hands tightly into his hair. When the sensations finally became too much, she pulled his mouth from her, dragging him upwards to capture his mouth with hers, tasting herself on him. 

"I think you've been holding out on me. What was it you were saying about needing to learn?" she trailed her fingers down his back. "After that performance...I would say you've certainly learnt a lot already since the Chinese brothel, Jack."

His eyes met hers, bracing himself on his arms above her. "Well, I would hate for you to think I was an ignorant man, not at least attempting to uncover the truth about some of what I saw that day. I try to be well versed in as much as I can."

"I look forward to finding out more about all you've learnt, then," Phryne told him with a wicked grin. 

Hooking her legs around his back, she made to flip them, Jack making no protest. She straddled his legs, leaning down over him to run her hands along the contours of his chest, pressing her lips to every piece of skin she could reach. It was Jack’s turn now. His eyes closed in pleasure; he made no protest as Phryne reached out and gripped his hard cock through the thin fabric of his undershorts. She began to slide them down his legs, revealing the glory of him completely to her gaze. Moving herself so she could remove them completely, Phryne straddled him again, this time in the cradle of his hips. There was no mistaking her intent and Jack’s eyes flew open, the desire evident in them as she slowly rose above him, sinking down inch by inch onto his hard length. 

Phryne leant down to kiss him, the change in angle filling her even more completely. Jack’s lips met her fiercely, passionately, his kiss sending bursts of pleasure shooting through her body. 

She rose above him again, keeping her eyes locked with, wanting to convey every single feeling she felt for him in just one gaze. Maybe soon she would be brave enough to utter the words out loud. But for now, as she pulled her body upwards to slide down onto his hard length once more, seeing the look of absolute pleasure and complete understanding in Jack’s eyes, she was perfectly content to let actions speak louder than words. 


End file.
